


Overheat

by taylor_tut



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Whump, Fluff, Gen, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Overheating, Whump, Worried Hank Anderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-15 02:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16053140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A little drabble from my tumblr for Connor's systems "freezing" up in a hot environment.





	Overheat

Connor was sitting on the porch waiting for Hank to be finished talking to the FBI, the sun beating down on his back in a way that made everything slow down. 

The case had started off just like any other, but once the killer that they began to suspect had been run through a background check and found to be actually a young man already wanted for multiple deaths in Missouri, Illinois, and Indiana, the FBI had stepped in, claiming that since the case had crossed state lines, that it was technically their territory. 

That meant that only the higher-ranking detectives were asked for their opinions, namely Hank and Fowler. None of the rest of the officers at the DPD were terribly happy about this, but at least Connor still had a job as a glorified forensics lab. He was still allowed to interact with the case, but was instructed not to give his opinion, nor to pursue the suspect or to visit any of the crime scenes without FBI supervision. Hence why now, having already analyzed the samples that had been found in the abandoned gas station, he’d been told to wait outside for Hank to finish up. He’d sworn that it would only be a few minutes, but already, half an hour had ticked by. 

“Jesus, Connor, you at least could have come back inside for some AC,” Hank’s voice startled him from a near-rest mode. 

“I was asked to w-wh-wait for you,” Connor replied, a stutter interrupting his usually clear and concise tone. If Hank noticed, he didn’t say anything. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he apologized, “I thought that was gonna be a lot quicker. Those FBI guys can really talk your ear off.”

Connor didn’t quite grasp that idiom, but running it through his lexicon seemed like too much work right now, so he decided to let it be. Hank was already walking to the car, anyway, and probably expected him to follow. Why wasn’t he following?

“Connor, you comin’?” Hank prompted, but Connor’s legs wouldn’t move. He tried to push himself up off the porch with his arms, but found that even though those still had a bit of mobility left in them, they were stiff and weak.

“Hank,” Connor called, and it was more than enough to have him sprinting back to his side. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, close up in Connor’s face, blurry in his vision. His optical unit didn’t seem to want to zoom in for him. 

“I’m n-not sure,” he stuttered again, “I seem to be mmmmalfunctioning.” Hank frowned, tilting his cheek to see his LED and jerking his hand back when the heat from Connor’s face singed it. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, “you’re on fire.”

“Systems a-a-are freezing,” he managed. The irony wasn’t lost on Hank as it was Connor, and he’d have to remember to laugh at him about it once they cooled him down. 

“Can you walk?” Hank asked, and Connor shook his head jerkily. “Alright,” Hank sighed, “then I’ll have to grab some ice packs. Pretty sure there are some in that FBI van; those fuckers are prepared to find anything at a crime scene.”

Connor watched as Hank went from fuzzy to clear and back to fuzzy as he passed through his vision’s focal point and closed his eyes until he felt something cold pressed against his forehead, placed down his shirt, pressed to the back of his neck.

“We’ll cool you down, son,” Hank reassured. “It’ll be fine. Don’t you worry.” When Hank was around, Connor never did.


End file.
